The Seventh Month

Publishing Committee · Saratoga Springs, N. Y. · Mar 2, 1852

The Seventh Month

The following lines from the Voice of Truth of 1845 beautifully express the real spirit and trials of the past advent movement. They are well calculated to "call to remembrance the former days."

The Seventh Month.

"A Pilgrim band, with unaccustomed feet, Set out to follow TRUTH. Then wisdom smiled, And pointed to a path that led far out Beyond the dim philosophy of time, And said, 'if ye indeed will drink the cup, Of which I drink, and also be baptized With my baptism, then shall ye enter in And tread the thorny path that follows truth.' They bowed with one consent, and onward pressed; And, as the pathway narrowed, cast aside Their worldly happiness and each hindering weight— Idols, and self, and sympathies, and tears, Nor looked behind to see how strangely far They had advanced beyond each time-worn chart; For on one side their feet dark waters yawned, And on the other, still refining fire. At length, the trial came, when wisdom sought To test and purify their faith and zeal, And seal them for the glory and the crown Of righteousness. The day—the test hour—came, They stood together, firm, united, free, Upon eternal rock. The waves dashed round And wildly threatened, while red lightnings blazed And thunders rolled; and from the gathering shade Strange voices whispered unbelief. Yet still, Unheeded for a while, they braved the storm. At length a murmur rose, and some looked back, Astonished at their distance from the shore; For still the land of Egypt was in sight, Where the proud fanes of worldly worship stood, And human policy and ancient names, Earth's wisdom, science and religion's form. Then with a wild attempt their life to save, Some, that had been the foremost in the train, Rushed o'er the beetling verge of that high rock, And loudly called upon the rest to turn, And with confessions deep, give up at once The FALSE pursuit. And now, while yet was heard The echo of their voice beyond the wave, In praise of Wisdom's consecrated path, Their voices change, and desecrate that way, Proclaiming Wisdom had not led them out So FAR from EARTH; but some strange wily fiend, In Wisdom's garb. Ah, judge what sad dismay Entered the trusting hearts of that poor flock, Some cried, 'and is it all delusion, then, A vision false, to which my soul has bowed; My sacrifice, and consecration, all A shadow, wrong and vain.' Then Unbelief Came in, and many sank in chill despair Beneath the sullen waves, striving in vain To reach the kingdom in some easier way. But now, the third long watch is fully past, And the dark mist that hung upon THAT ROCK Is driven before the light of opening day. What see we there? Bones scattered round its base, Washed from the depths beneath. But turn again Upon its highest point, is seen a group— A remnant—that unshaken, there remains; Who still have kept their joy and confidence, Though winds have rent, and raging waters drenched, And earth, and hell, combined to drive them hence. Yet there they STAND, held by a power unseen, And wait a sure salvation from on high. To them, what is reproach, or scorn, or hate? Or the low ridicule of dying things? What the last howlings of the storm to them, When rest is just in sight, and Jesus calls, And says, 'come out of tribulation, come, My suffering and my ransomed ones, COME HOME.'"

From the Advent Testimony of 1846.